storms

"I was sure by now / That You would have reached down / And wiped our tears away / stepped in and saved the day / but once again, I say "Amen," and it's still raining"


It's storming. Again. Not just on the outside, but on the inside--in my soul. My heart is covered in a thick, wet blanket. Every scripture I know eludes me. Tears are gathering, anxious to fall.


Anyone who's ever flown out of Sea-Tac airport knows this story. The day of your flight is overcast at best, probably raining. You take your seat by the window and look out over the glassy tarmack, and watch the men load luggage, their yellow slickers glistening. The plane taxi's down the runway and finally lifts her nose into the dreary, gray, soggy air. Your stomach sinks as thrust kicks in, and into the gloom you climb. Rain slaps the window and runs off in streaks.

And then I hear the word. Your word.

Out the window, you watch the clouds begin to thin, like fog burning off. You close your eyes, and feel warmth. In a flash, the brightest light pours over the top of the clouds. You squint your eyes and look up...look all around--as far around as the tiny portal window allows--and all you can see is blue sky. Azure blue, baby blue, sky blue. No more rain. No more clouds. From this altitude upward there's nothing but light, and sun, and clarity. Crystal clarity.

"I'll praise You in this storm / and I will lift my hands / For You are who You are / No matter where I am / Every tear I've cried / You hold in Your hand / You never left my side / And though my heart is torn...

I WILL PRAISE YOU IN THIS STORM."